Under a Year
by Firesblood
Summary: It's a funny thing, death. You go day by day without a care in the world and it sneaks up on you. You could be doing something as simple as watering the garden and there it is hiding in the flowers...
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter or the characters therein. The Potterverse belongs to Ms. J. K. Rowling. _**

**Just Under a Year**

**By Firesblood**

"Too much wormwood. I think that's a zero for the day." I watched as my potion, which was only slightly off color, disappeared from my cauldron and Professor Snape sneered as he walked on to his next victim. I had been stirred from my many thoughts by this, the phial that held the over-measured wormwood still tipping out of my hand and emptying slowly into the bottom.

I blinked expressionlessly at the place where my work had been, before setting the phial down on the table. I gathered my books silently and tipped them into the cauldron. Without a word, I left the room. I could hear another snide remark thrown at my back as I left, but I paid it no heed. Hell, I don't even remember what he said, which is funny because I remember just about everything that has to do with him. I've had a damn crush on him since my fifth year. I would never tell a living soul, of course.

It was his hands. Beautiful, graceful, swift but precise, calloused from years of potion work. Perfect. I had dreamt of those hands on me almost every night for three years.

All I know is that I found myself next in my dormitory, putting everything that I owned in my trunk.

I know why I did it, hell, I had been thinking about it since I walked through the doors at the first of the year. I left before Harry and Ron got out of class, and before anybody could stop me. I left because there were important things I had to do. I had important things to see, and was wasting precious time ruining potions and botching homework.

It's a funny thing, death. You go day by day without a care in the world, and then it sneaks up on you. You could be doing something as simple as watering your garden, and there it is hiding in the flowers. When you're young with your life ahead of you, you don't think about it. Death is simply one of those under-the-bed bogey men that your parents tell you don't exist.

And then, when you find out over the summer that you have some sort of extremely rare brain disease that has no cure, you start to think. Under a year to live, the doctor says, and the wheels start to turn even more. What about my life? What about the people I love and the people who love me? What about the things that I haven't done yet and the things I want to do? It just simply isn't possible that someone with so much to do yet will die so soon.

You seek a second opinion, then a third, then a forth. You go to the magical hospital to see if anything can be done about it there, and find out that they've never seen anything like it and have no idea in the slightest what to do about it. It's simply something that never occurs in the wizarding world, I'm sorry.

You try to make sense of it. You debate about whether to tell your friends or not what's going on, but you know you won't because you don't want to see pity on their faces when they look at you. You don't want them to treat you like some fragile china doll and do everything for you, and you know they would, because they love you.

Your parents are already grieving, it's like you're already dead. No amount of research can tell you what you need to know. No nights of staying up all night and employing every technique you have for figuring out the most difficult of puzzles can offer anything that the doctors haven't already told you.

They tried to convince me to stay home. I told them that I wasn't dead yet, and I was going to live my life as if nothing had ever happened. I know that they didn't want me to go, but I think it would be easier for them if I wasn't there. They could get used to it, you know?

Under a year, they said. It all depends on whether your cells start to degenerate quicker. If they continue on the rate they are going now, just under a year. But if they speed up, which could very well be the case, you may have less.

What is an 18 year old supposed to say to that? What is a teenager, who has faced the horror of the world with her two friends, and killed it without fear supposed to say? I fought for my life and for the lives of the wizarding world and made it out alive, and now I'm going to be done in by some low-lying disease that nobody else has?

I wanted to go to University. I wanted to become a Potions Mistress. I wanted to lose my damn virginity, for Merlin's sake! I wanted to get married and live a nice, peaceful life! But, I can only do one of those things, and who wants to screw a bushy-haired know-it-all whose going to die? I'm sure there are quite a few, I mean, no attachment right? But then again, there's that thing about me saying I'm dying soon. Pity. China doll crap. No thank you.

Then again, if I were to keep it to myself, which in all actuality I would, would I be able to have sex with a complete stranger? I know my fantasies contain the bat of the dungeons and his perfect hands, and I have entertained the idea of trying to speak to him after the end of the year, but now I can't wait that long. When it all boils down to it, would I be able to open my legs and give myself to someone I just barely met? Women do it all the time, I suppose, but not for their first time. Bugger it.

I exited the gates and went into Hogsmeade. I bought chocolate and some butter caramels from Honeydukes, and then caught the knight bus. I needed to get out of here. Away from the smiling faces of my friends, the insults of those who were not my friends, and the pressure of schoolwork.

Imagine that! Hermione Granger walking away from school because there's too much thinking! I would have laughed myself senseless if you'd have told me I'd be doing that a year ago.

I know that they will come looking for me eventually. Dumbledore and McGonnagal know that I'm sick and what I have, but they haven't told anyone else to my knowledge. I had already stopped going to transfiguration because I discovered that she wasn't grading me fairly. It was like she penned an O on my papers when she saw my name. I purposely got everything wrong and still got an O for it. If there's anything I hate more than the fact that I'm dying soon, it's the fact that someone would insult me in such a fashion, and to me, not grading my papers fairly was an insult.

As I sat on the dizzying, nauseating bus ride, I decided that I would start a new life. Though it may be considerably shorter than my former life, at least I would do something with my new life. I would see the things I've always wanted to see, like the Incan pyramids in South America. I decided to travel to Egypt, America, and all the other places that I've wanted to go but haven't yet.

Starting the next day, the old life of Hermione Granger would end, and I wouldn't look back.

**A/N: Hey, I hope you liked this. I'm debating on whether or not to actually make this a full length story, but it depends entirely on the response I get. If you like it or love it, let me know. Thanks for reading! Please R/R!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: After a long wait, here is the second chapter in this story. Originally, I had not decided what Hermione had. I discovered the disease after four hours of research into rare brain diseases. Anyway, Thank you all so much for your reviews. Keep in mind that my brain thrives on reviews. It lives and feeds off of them, and in doing so, it feeds my drive for creativity. So let me know what you think! Now that this is finished and posted, I'm off to write another chapter, maybe two. Enjoy!**

**I am also looking for a beta! I would like someone who is versatile, meaning willing to edit not only Harry Potter fanfiction, but also Pitch Black/Chronicles of Riddick fanfiction, and possibly much more. After several years, I have branched out from my comfort zone and am beginning to write more stuff. If you are up for the challenge, let me know!**

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Severus sat at the staff table, waiting impatiently for the other teachers to enter the room. Minerva sat across from him, handkerchief out. Dumbledore was at the head of the table, a grave look on his face. He knew that it had something to do with the Granger girl. He, in all honesty, had been shocked when she not only got the potion wrong, but she simply walked out of class without another word. The fact that she had not been seen since then by anyone in the school had sparked the worry fire within a good many of them. Severus could not claim to be untouched, though there was no chance in hell he was touched enough to bawl into an embroidered square of flannel.

Thankfully, they did not have to wait that long. The teachers entered and sat down.

Dumbledore stood.

"I have called this meeting in regards to Miss Hermione Granger. As you know, she disappeared from Hogwarts yesterday morning, and has not been seen here since. I spoke to a few people in Hogsmeade that say they saw her in Honeydukes before getting on the Knight Bus. This has been confirmed by the attendant at the store.

"Many of you, in fact, all of you, do not know that Miss Granger is very sick. Over the summer, she discovered that she has a brain disease called Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. It is a muggle disease that also appears in bovine," Dumbledore closed his eyes. "Known as mad cow disease."

Severus held back a snicker.

"However, Miss Granger has a very different form of it. Her form is called Variant CJD. It is a genetic mutation. But here is where the rareness of this disease kicks in. The disease does not normally show up until the mid to late twenties. Miss Granger is barely eighteen, and she has been told that she has less than a year to live."

Dumbledore sighed. Severus frowned deeply. She was dying? How could that be possible? And a brain disease to top it off. If Severus didn't already believe it to be so, he would have thought that there was no God, or if there was, he had a very sick, twisted sense of humor. Give this child a brain and the ability to use it to it's full potential, then kill her with an incurable brain disease that shows up mostly in cows before she's even twenty years old.

"What are the symptoms?" He found himself asking, his voice just barely an octave over whisper.

"Progressive Dementia, personality changes, hallucinations, and seizures, I believe. I think there was more, but I honestly do not remember it all. All I know is that there is no cure in the Muggle world, and we simply do not have such a disease in the wizarding world, and it is fatal.

"Because of this, she is not safe to be by herself. She needs to be brought back where she can be watched over and helped if she takes a turn for the worst."

Severus frowned. The teachers were murmuring to each other. He couldn't say that had he known about her sickness, he would have treated her any different, but he certainly would have taken it into account, if not just a tiny bit. The fact that the young woman was out gallivanting who knows where with something that could and would kill her made him cringe. She had saved his life. Perhaps he could figure out a way to save hers. But he needed a few things first, like testing samples and research. He would have to observe her closely.

"I will find her, and when I do I will attempt to create a cure." Severus volunteered quietly. He did have a life debt to pay, after all. One by one, widened eyes turned to him.

"Are you positive, Severus?" Dumbledore asked him. Minerva was looking at him with hope. He cringed inside.

"Yes. My theory is that Miss Granger went abroad to do and see things that she wants to do before she takes her leave of this world. It is something that I think anyone would do. I will visit her parents house and look around for any clues as to where she might be heading."

Dumbledore looked at him gratefully. "Thank you Severus. I will take over your potions class until you return with her."

Severus stood.

"Headmaster, I will not bring her against her will. I may not be able to find a cure in time, if at all. If that is so, I will not deprive her of her chance to see and do the things she wants to do. If you wish, I will tutor her along the way, but I will not bring her back if she doesn't wish to be brought back."

Dumbledore frowned. "Very well. She is an adult and can therefore make those decisions. I would prefer it if she be brought back," he added when Minerva made to protest, "but I will respect her wishes."

Severus gave a small nod and left the room to go and prepare clothing. He packed his luggage and a good many books, shrunk them, and stuffed it all into one of his pockets. It wasn't until after he was on his way to her home that he began to regret his decision. He knew that he was the last person she would want to see or spend time with. He only hoped that he could find some way to help her. And for Severus Snape, that was a step and a half in the right direction at least.

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_A/n: all information on Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease was taken from Wikipedia. As Fanfiction will not allow me to post the link, the page and all it's references can be found through google. As a Disclaimer, I did not write the report, nor do I have anything to do with the information, discovery, or anything else regarding the disease. _

_This disease is not a laughing matter, and if anybody out there is reading this that has Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease or knows someone that does have it, I apologize in advance if I have offended you in any way, as it is not my intention._

_Thank you for reading! _


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